Another tug against the chains, this one weaker. Danika found herself suddenly fascinated, listening despite her desire to leave. Stefano had just confirmed what her grandmother had told her, a tale unlike the one the world believed. “And?”
“And the gods’ elite soldiers were angry that they hadn’t been chosen to guard it, their pride slighted. They decided to show the gods their mistake. While the one called Paris seduced Pandora, the others fought her guards. In the end, the soldiers won. Their leader, the one named Lucien, opened the box, releasing those vile demons upon the innocent world once more. Death and Darkness reigned.”
Danika once again sagged into the mattress. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to imagine harsh, rugged Reyes as Stefano claimed he’d been. Prideful, jealous. When Danika had been with him, Reyes hadn’t seemed to care what others thought of him. He’d barked orders and snapped commands. He’d been surly and brooding. “And?”
“The box disappeared. No one knew where it had been taken or who had taken it. Having no other alternative, the gods gathered the demons and placed them inside the warriors responsible for the travesty, then banished them to earth. Those men lost all threads of their humanity; they became their demons, bathing our world in blood. And they continue to be a blight upon us all. As long as they’re roaming free, no one is safe.” Stefano rubbed at his Adam’s apple, his head tilting to the side, expression intense. “I asked you before, but I will ask you again. Can you imagine a world without rage, pain, lies and misery?”
“No.” She couldn’t. For the past two months, those were all she’d known. They’d been her only companions.
“The Lords killed your grandmother, Danika. Are you aware of that?”
“You don’t know that for sure!” she yelled, the words leaving her on a burst. Tears filled her eyes again, but she suppressed them as she had before. “She could be alive.”
“She’s not.”
“How do you know?” The question was panicked, hoarse. “You can’t know unless you’ve…unless you’ve…”
“Seen her.”
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. No. Goddamn it, no! “Have you?” She barely heard herself, but didn’t have the strength to ask again.
“Yes and no,” he admitted. “One of my men saw the creature Aeron carrying her limp body over his shoulder. The pair disappeared inside a building, or my agent would have followed.” Stefano pinched the bridge of his nose in regret. “At first, we planned to watch you and wait for the Lords to come for you again. We assumed you meant to aid their cause, and we planned to capture all of you at the same time. But you continually ran as if you didn’t want them to find you. That intrigued me.”
Like she cared about his plans! Was her grandmother dead? A limp body did not a corpse make. Grandma Mallory could very well be alive, laughing, eating a bowl of her favorite soup. She pictured it and nearly cried out in longing, desperate for it to be true.
The image soon morphed, a dagger protruding from her grandmother’s chest. No. No! She wanted to scream, to rail. Emotion does you no good. You know that. You cannot wallowor you’ll collapse.
Hardly matters if I collapse, she thought, nearing hysteria. Not like I can run now.
“You can help us capture them, Danika. Ensure that they never do to others what they’ve done to you and me. You can punish them for hurting your loved one. Your family can finally stop running. You can all be together again.”
Without Grandma Mallory?
This time, she couldn’t stop the sob. Her chin trembled and her jaw ached. Warm tears flowed down her cheeks freely.
“Help me,” Stefano added earnestly. “In return, I’ll help you. I’ll guard you and your family until every single one of the Lords is dead. Those demons will never hurt you again. You have my word of honor.”
To know her family was safe and would remain safe… She wouldn’t have cared about the terms of the deal even if she had to sign her soul over to the devil. The hope that Stefano could help her mother and sister was irresistible. The thought of revenge was overwhelming.
“What do I have to do?”
CHAPTER FOUR
ONE AT A TIME, Lucien flashed most of the warriors to an abandoned building. They were inside the fortress in Budapest one second, night all around them, and someplace sunny and warm the next.
Lucien flashed Reyes last. Last time he’d been transported like this, he’d vomited. This time, his concern for Danika overcame even the slightest bit of nausea.
Inhaling dust and crumbling plaster, Reyes opened his eyes. The silver stone of the fortress had disappeared, the comforts of hearth and home gone. Bare gray walls, cement floors and piles of lumber now greeted him. Several windows were cracked; black garbage bags had been taped to them but now fell halfway, as if bowing, allowing the men to peer into an unknown world of…silence and stillness, he realized, hearing nothing and seeing no one.
The others stalked the building, searching for a hidden enemy, blades and guns raised and ready for action. All but Anya, who’d come in place of Maddox, wore expressions of confusion. A few muttered, “Where are the Hunters?”
“Not here,” Lucien answered.
“Where are we?” Reyes asked quietly. His own blades were pressed against his thighs. Urgency swam laps in his bloodstream.
“The States.” Sabin closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “L.A. is my guess. No place else has the stench of Hollywood.”
“Correct,” Lucien said with a grim nod.
“Hunters have a large faction here.” There was relish in the undertones of Sabin’s voice. “A faction I despise with every ounce of my being. The leader and I have history, and he despises me, too, so be ready for anything. He joined the Hunters after his wife and I…” He shrugged, some of his anticipation muted by sorrow. “We were together, but I’m not good for humans and things ended badly. Hunters recruited him, and he’s been gunning for me ever since.”
Sabin and his men had been battling Hunters far longer than Lucien and his group had. Paris, Maddox, Torin, Aeron and Reyes had split with Sabin, Strider, Gideon, Cameo, Amun and Kane several thousand years ago.
Their friend Baden, keeper of Distrust, had been brutally murdered by Hunters. After revenge had been meted out, half of the Lords had desired peace. What was better for a battered soul than a cessation of the constant struggle between good and evil, darkness and light? The other half had desired Hunter blood spilling into the streets of ancient Greece, crimson rivers of pain and terror.
Unable to come to terms, they’d gone their separate ways. Until Sabin brought the blood feud to Budapest, that is.
Though Reyes had walked away all those years ago, he would not, could not, do so now. He was involved, the illusion of peace forever shattered. Hunters had recently cut Torin’s throat, attempting to weaken him and capture everyone else. Thankfully, those Hunters had failed.
Reyes would not fail in his mission.
Whatever he had to do to destroy his enemy, he would do. And if he had to destroy the gods who might very well support the Hunters’ quest, eventually he would find a way to do that, too.
It was hard to know the gods’ ultimate goal, however. Fickle and mysterious, they were like a puzzle missing several key pieces. While the silent Greeks had angered Reyes with their neglect, the cryptic Titans edged him toward a murderous rage. They claimed to want harmony for the world, both in the heavens and below. They claimed to desire worship and adoration, freedom from death and destruction. And yet they had ordered Danika’s execution. They’d even ordered Anya’s execution, though they’d since changed their minds. And what they were doing to Aeron…
Do not venture down this path. Not here, not now. Already his nails were elongated, pinpricks pressing into his palms. Red spots winked over his vision, and the demon whispered seductively: Cut yourself. Hurt.
“No,” he gritted out.
“This way,” Lucien was saying, but he paused when Reyes spoke and peered at him quizzically. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I am fine.” When Danika was safe and tucked in his bed, he would feed his demon. Until then, there would be no hurting himself. Blood loss ultimately would weaken him, and he needed to be at top strength for the coming combat.
But for every second he resisted, the demon would grow louder and louder. Reyes knew that well. He would become more and more distracted. That was the bane of his demon-curse. He needed to cut himself, but in the end he weakened like any other being when injured, albeit temporarily.
“What were you saying?” he asked Lucien.
Every gaze shifted to him.
Lucien rolled his eyes. “The girl is being held one street over. Innocents fill the area, so we will have to be careful.”
He didn’t care about innocents. Cold and callous of him, but then, he’d never been a soft, easy man. Well, that wasn’t true. In the years before his pairing with Pain, he remembered laughing and joking with his friends. “How many Hunters are with her?” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he thought of the suffering she might even now be enduring.
Whatever was done to Danika, Reyes would retaliate a hundredfold when facing the Hunters. He might hate his demon for the torment he constantly endured, but he wouldn’t hesitate to hand over the reins of control so that the creature could unleash its powers. Not today. Pain could look into a human’s soul, find every vulnerability, even the tiniest chink, and systematically scrape each one with poisoned arrows until the human was screaming, writhing, clawing at his skin to stop the agony.
“Earlier today,” Lucien said, “there were twenty-three in the building.”
“They multiply like rabbits.” Sabin grinned, and the sight of it was pure wickedness. “Could be a hundred more by now.”